Desperate Measures
by Tribal Shimmy
Summary: I have a reputation for hurting Hephaistion...and this story is where he gets hurt the most. Please do not read it if you think that it might be too upsetting. An AU story. Hephaistion is tortured to find out Alexander's plans for battle. STORY COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

"So, it's true that Mazeus is leaving?"

Hephaistion looked back over the Euphrates to see Mazeus and his men breaking camp. He couldn't stop himself from smiling, the news he had for Alexander was only good. A deal had been struck, Mazeus would leave the forthcoming battle, returning to Babylon. When Alexander won - for how could he ever lose, Mazeus would be Governor of Babylon.

All this had been done thanks to Mazeus commanding Greek mercenaries, so out of necessity, having to speak the language. They had both talked across the river, talking alone, leaving their men, so their words could not be overheard.

Hephaistion looked at Odius, a man from his troop who had asked the question, and nodded. He headed for his tent, he had the engineers to organise, the bridges he had been sent to build could now be completed.

Mazeus had confirmed that Darius was on his way, gathering men as he travelled. They would outnumber the Macedonian army. In a few weeks the fate of Persia would be decided. Alexander would be the Great King.

"Did he say anything about the battle?" Odius asked, following Hephaistion.

Hephaistion stopped, frowning at the man. "It's not as if I could tell you, Odius. I know we have known each other a long time, but some things are for Alexander's ear alone."

A young boy came running over to Odius, hesitating as he saw Hephaistion. He was Odius' Egyptian boy, Zahur. Odius signalled for him to come over and then threw his arm around his shoulders, pulling him to him affectionately.

Hephaistion smiled. He had never known Odius to love anyone or anything, and he was not sure where Odius had found the boy, but when they left Egypt, Zahur had come with him. Zahur, was a shy thing, Hephaistion was not sure if he ever actually spoke, and perhaps he did not love Odius as Odius loved him.

Odius pushed again. "When will Alexander be here?"

"That, I can answer," grinned Hephaistion. "He will be here in the next couple of days." Hephaistion could not wait for Alexander, to hold him as Odius now held Zahur, they had been separated for too long. He nodded a farewell, then walked on.

The sound of a disturbance came from the far side of the camp. Hephaistion headed over to see a fight between two more of his men, Philonikos and Agis. Astyoche, Naukles and Epikrates were already pulling them apart. Other men were gathered round, adding their voices, shouting approval, adding their opinions. They fell silent as Hephaistion broke through the crowd.

Philonikis had the grace to look ashamed but Agis glared at Hephaistion; he had been nothing but trouble since he joined the army from Megara. It was not the first time he had been in a fight.

"Philonikis, why were you fighting?" Hephaistion asked, seeing that he was the man most injured by the fight, his nose was bleeding and his eye had been blacked.

"Take his side," snapped Agis, pulling against Astyoche to try to free himself.

"You'll both have a chance to speak," Hephaistion snapped back, then turned to Philonikis and waited for his answer.

Philonikis shook his head before he spoke. "He took my dagger; my father's dagger. I came back from the river to see him with it, but he denied it.

"I never took anything!" protested Agis.

Astyoche pulled Agis into a firmer hold, hurting him. "That dagger belongs to Philonikis," he said. He looked at Hephaistion. "Any man who fights with Philonikis will know it is his."

"Where is the dagger?" asked Hephaistion. Timanthes stepped forward and handed Hephaistion the dagger, handle first. It had the carving of a lion on it, the style of the dagger was that of Corinth, where Philonikis came from, not Megara, Agis' homeland. He stared at the dagger, sure that Agis was guilty, before looking up to him. "What do you say, Agis?"

Agis had realised that his cause was lost, but still he tried to escape the consequences. "I won it from him…in a bet…but he wouldn't give it to me and so I took it."

"Liar!" shouted Philonikis, making a move to fight Agis once more, but being stopped by Naukles.

"I am no liar," Agis appealed to Hephaistion. "I have been in trouble before but why blame me now? I am innocent."

"I'm tired of hearing of you, Agis," sighed Hephaistion. "You pick fights too easily, now it seems that you have turned into a thief. Perhaps you need something to cool your temper, some task to keep you busy. Go and find Aristodemos, tell him that I sent you, that he is to keep you busy."

"Aristodemos?" spat Agis. "He is a slave!"

"He's a better man than you," Hephaistion replied, calmly. "Perhaps digging latrines, fetching water for the horses and cleaning clothes will teach you a lesson. I've had you flogged before, Agis, it doesn't seem to have improved you one bit."

"Then let me go!" yelled Agis. "Let me fight under a proper soldier…like Cleitus."

"Cleitus would have no time for you," Hephaistion replied. "Not until you cool your temper and learn what it is to have honour."

Agis tried to reply, but stumbled over his words. He shrugged off Astyoche and stormed away.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion returned to his tent, sighing as he looked at the pile of paperwork on his desk. He looked over at his bed, imagining Alexander lying upon it.

Putting the paperwork aside he wrote a letter to Alexander, but not to tell him of the progress of the bridges, or his talks with Mazeus, but to say how much he missed him.

He paused as he finished the letter, thinking its content might inspire Alexander to increase his pace and reach him sooner. Once more he looked over to the bed, then he sealed the letter and went outside to call for Pentheus, who acted as a messenger.

Pentheus came running over, Hephaistion handed him the letter. He felt a momentary

stab of jealousy, as he realised that Pentheus would see Alexander by nightfall. If he were not so tied by his duty, then he would have fetched his own horse and taken his message in person.

Instead, he watched as Pentheus rode off at a gallop, his orders to hand the letter to Alexander in person.

Hephaistion went down to the river, glad to hear work continuing. Mazeus had gone.

He spent time with the engineers and spoke to the men at work there. He had hoped they would be completed by the time Alexander arrived, but he did not think they would be. Whatever Mazeus' selfish intentions, he could not be seen to be standing by letting Hephaistion complete their means to crossing the river.

Hephaistion looked across the river, in the direction of Babylon, wondering what the people were like, where Darius would order his men to fight. The landscape was vast, he longed to explore it, he and Alexander had talked about it, dreamed about it, since childhood.

He returned to his tent, the paperwork couldn't wait anymore. A page brought him some bread, cheese and wine and he ate and drank while he worked on the accounts, approved promotions amongst his men and wrote a letter to Aristotle. He was left in peace, to work, finally completing everything as dusk was falling and the page returned to light the lanterns.

He picked up the fresh flask of wine the page brought and wandered outside to see that work had stopped and his men were lighting fires, sitting round in small groups, talking, singing, gambling.

He made his way to Odius' section of the camp, but Astyoche informed him that he had taken himself off with Zahur and had not been seen all afternoon. Hephaistion sat by Astyoche and offered him some wine, which he gladly took. The flask was passed round the small group of men there.

"I'd have thought Darius would have come to take a look," said Astyoche, nodding towards the bridges, silhouetted now in the dark.

"He has no need," replied Hephaistion. "He knows that a decisive battle is inevitable."

"We should have got him at Issus," said Epikrates.

"We got the family," Aischines argued.

Epikrates grinned and looked to Hephaistion. "And they thought you were Alexander, himself."

The men laughed, but Hephaistion remembered how graciously Alexander had soothed the Queen's embarrassment at her mistake. Later, Alexander had held Hephaistion in his arms and sworn, that he believed, they were truly two parts of one whole.

Odius appeared, but stayed on his feet, surprised to see Hephaistion.

"So, the lover returns," joked Astyoche. "Come, sit with us, you must be tired."

The flask of wine was handed to Odius and he took a drink of the wine, then placed the flask on the ground. He sat down amongst them. The talk turned to battles they had won; they were soldiers enjoying all the fine details of the fight, now that they had come through them alive.

As it grew darker, the night grew colder and Hephaistion wished his men health and returned to his tent.

He stripped and washed, then pulled back the blankets on his bed and lay down. Closing his eyes he soon fell asleep.

OOXXOO

"Hephaistion!" His name was spoken in a loud whisper, somebody was shaking his shoulder.

Suddenly awake, Hephaistion propped himself up to see Odius crouched by his bed.

"Odius?" he asked, surprised to see the man.

"Mazeus has returned, he is on the far side of the river and says he needs to talk to you."

Hephaistion stretched himself, then rose from his bed and picked up his chiton and undergarments, dressing himself and pulling on his boots, before fastening on his breastplate, sword, belt and dagger.

The lamps still burnt, it was still dark outside of the tent. Hephaistion put on his cloak and stepped outside, followed by Odius. The men were asleep, the campfires had died down. The night had a chill to it, so Hephaistion pulled his cloak around him, then yawning, made his way to the bridges.

There was no need for anyone but Odius to accompany him, so he made his way silently towards the left hand bridge, looking to see, if he could see, the guards positioned around the perimeter of the camp. The moon was out but the guards were too distant to be seen by that light. He wondered why Mazeus would return; hoped he hadn't changed his mind - but then, why would he bother to come back and tell him.

"How did you know Mazeus was here?" Hephaistion asked as he stepped on to the bridge.

Odius pointed forward. "I was just standing here, and I heard a low whistle. I was going to call the guard but then I saw who it was."

"You must have keen eyesight, Odius," Hephaistion laughed, "I can only see a few feet in front of me."

Odius did not answer. At that moment, Hephaistion became aware of a knocking sound; he looked over the bridge and saw a boat tied up. Not one of theirs. He went to raise the alarm, when he felt a knife in his side; he felt an arm lock about his neck, pinning him.

"I have him," Odius hissed.

Shadows climbed up the bridge. Persians.

"Odius?" Hephaistion was shocked by the betrayal. He was pulled away from Odius, another knife pointed between his ribs, his hands were pulled behind him and tied securely.

In the moonlight, Odius looked a broken man. "They have Zahur. They said they would kill him if I did not bring you to them. He is just a boy." He stepped forward, Hephaistion could see the tears in his eyes.

"They could kill you now," Hephaistion warned.

Odius shook his head. "They have something else for me to do."

Hephaistion saw Odius look past him, heard the urgent whispers of his captors. Turning his head he saw them lifting a body from the boat, it was wrapped in a dark blanket but as they put it on the bridge the blanket fell away.

It was a man the same age as he was, with long dark hair. Greek. He was Greek. For the brief moment he saw the man's face, Hephaistion knew it was not one of his men and he was grateful for that.

Hands reached for him, removing his weapons and breastplate, then removing the metal cuffs he wore on his wrists. Hephaistion stared at Odius in alarm as they located the locket he always wore, the same as Alexander always wore. He struggled to prevent it being removed, he went to protest verbally, but the knife jabbed into his ribs and a Persian voice whispered in menace so he knew he would be killed if he struggled further.

They put Hephaistion's possessions on to the corpse.

"I have to place the body in your tent, on your bed, then set fire to it. When the men who have Zahur see the flames, they will release him."

"They might not," Hephaistion whispered.

"I am in torment," Odius cried softly. He stepped forward, embracing Hephaistion. "I am so sorry," he whispered, and Hephaistion felt Odius' tears against his cheek, then felt Odius' dagger pushed in to his belt. Odius was giving him a chance.

Hephaistion understood. He closed his eyes. "Alexander will forgive you," he said, just as the Persians pulled him away and lowered him in to the waiting boat.

OOXXOO

Odius made a move to go after Hephaistion, he drew his sword, he opened his mouth to alert the guard, but at that moment he remembered Zahur, of his promise to secure his release. The boy had been so scared, he had promised to save him.

He fell to his knees, lifting his head to see the boat disappear into the darkness. If he raised the alarm now he would be sealing his fate, he would be executed. He had made his choice and sacrificed Hephaistion, but now he wondered if Zahur was worth the price.

Remembering the rest of his bargain, he looked over to the body. Another life had been lost because of his love for Zahur. He stood up and walked over to the corpse, bending down and gently lifting it in to his arms. He carried it along the bridge, his senses alert for any sign that he might be discovered. The moon went behind a cloud and he used the darkness to reach Hephaistion's tent.

He lay the body on the ground and removed the breastplate, sword, and dagger that belonged to Hephaistion. As he did this he noticed the locket. Hephaistion treasured it, he knew Alexander wore the same. He had done to Alexander what he feared to have done to himself; Alexander would never see his love alive again.

He took the locket, not thinking of the consequences, but to keep it safe would be a final act he could do for Hephaistion. It would lessen the betrayal.

Reaching for paperwork on Hephaistion's desk, Odius took a lamp, then placed the paper around the body and set fire to it. He stepped back then set fire to a linen partition, the blankets, the mattress. The fire took hold and Odius dropped the lamp and ran from the tent, not stopping until he could run no further.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion pulled against the rope that bound his hands together.

His captors were joyous with success, talking to him in excited tones, laughing, pulling at Hephaistion, prodding him and threatening him.

"They say you are a dead man."

Hephaistion looked to see a man staring over at him, sitting at the head of the boat, his hands resting on his knees. He was short and stocky with a dark beard and dark hair curled in the Persian way.

"You speak no Persian," the man continued.

Hephaistion shook his head, although he did know a little and intended mastering it.

The man moved closer, leaning in, almost conspiratorially. "If you mean to conquer a kingdom, then you should perhaps know the language they speak." The man grinned,

revealing a row of rotten teeth. "I am Enayat." He moved his head to point out the other men. "They speak no Greek. I am here to interpret, nothing more."

"Where are you taking me?" Hephaistion asked.

"To Besipah…"

Enayat stopped talking as a cry went up. Looking back a fire was visible, far in the distance.

"Your funeral pyre," laughed Enayat.

Hephaistion looked back. Alexander would believe he was dead. He could not bear the thought of Alexander's pain and could only think of getting back to him. In a sudden, and reckless, decision he stood and threw himself over the side of the boat, in to the river. He had only one slim chance of escape but he would take it and hope to return to Alexander.

The current pulled him under and he twisted his body, turning so that he freed himself from his cloak, which would only hold him under. He lifted his hands and located his belt, then pulled it round his body. The Gods were with him and he felt the dagger and had it in his hands.

His feet touched the bottom of the river. Locating a solid object, a rock or dead tree long submerged, he pushed himself up, bringing the dagger round to try to slice the ropes. He kicked with his feet, once more, and broke the surface, snatching a lungful of air before sinking under again.

The ropes were cut. Hephaistion wasted no time in surfacing, breathing hard, his lungs demanding air. He could hear shouts and frantically looked around, he saw the boat and swam away from it to the nearest side of the river.

As he emerged from the river and scrambled up the bank, the alarm was raised. Hephaistion looked over his shoulder. Men had been in the river, after him, the rest were bringing the boat to the side. They had seen him.

Taking another deep lungful of air, Hephaistion ran away from the river, stumbling on rocks and crashing through bushes. More shouts went up. Hephaistion hesitated, needing a moment to get his bearings, the land was too open, there was nowhere to hide. In the distance he saw the shadow of a tree, at a loss where to run, he ran towards it. Another shout went up and this time he heard galloping horses.

Hephaistion dared not look back, they were catching up with him, he could not out-run a horse. He reached the tree, just as the horses overtook and encircled him. The riders held spears. Hephaistion backed up against the tree, trying to catch his breath. He had failed.

The men on horseback waited, until the men from the boat had caught up. A rider pushed his horse forward, his words, spoken to Enayat, were angry and determined. Two riders dismounted and walked over to Hephaistion, holding him firm against the tree.

Enayat pointed to the man who had spoken. "That is Nozar. He serves Faramin, the satrap of Besipah. He was sent to fetch you. You will not try to escape again."

Hephaistion went to speak, but his words were transformed to a cry of pain as one of the men pinning him, stomped his foot down on Hephaistion's foot. The other man followed his example. Four more times they both stomped down, while Hephaistion writhed against the pain, trying to escape the torment.

They released him then, and Hephaistion slid down the tree, collapsing to the ground. He knew now that Nozar's words were not a request, but a statement of fact.

OOXXOO

As soon as the fire had been discovered, and Hephaistion's fate determined, riders left the camp at full gallop to bring the news to Alexander.

The debris had been searched, a body found.

Odius looked on. He had played his part and now he could only stand and watch, knowing the truth, fearing for Hephaistion but wanting so badly to know Zahur was safe.

The body had burnt beyond recognition, virtually just bone was left and that had twisted in the heat. The common thought, amongst the men, was that Hephaistion had somehow knocked the lamp over as he slept, that he had realised too late, he had tried to escape but the flames had engulfed him.

Odius clenched his fist. As he released it, a slender hand slid into his own. He turned to see Zahur smiling up at him. Delight and relief overwhelmed him, all at once, and he embraced Zahur tightly, kissing his face, eyes, lips. The men had kept their bargain. He dare not speak in case the men around him heard, he was never sure how much the boy understood anyway.

Approaching horses were heard and then Alexander arrived at a gallop, accompanied by Ptolemy, Seleucus, Perdiccas, Cleitus and his bodyguard. He had obviously left the army behind to arrive as soon as possible.

Odius watched as he pulled Bucephalus to a halt at the remains of the tent, dismounting quickly, as though he might still save Hephaistion. As Alexander was shown the body, Odius broke his embrace with Zahur. It did not seem right that he should take comfort from the one he loved at that moment.

Ptolemy moved over to Alexander, his hand resting on the king's shoulder, but Alexander brushed it off. He stepped back, then hurried to Bucephalus, mounting him, turning him away and riding off at a gallop. Seleucus, Perdiccas and Ptolemy followed, but Cleitus stopped the bodyguard.

"It will be a hard blow for Alexander," Astyoche said to himself. He looked over at Odius. "Hephaistion was always good to you."

"That he was," replied Odius, tears filling his eyes.

Zahur kissed him, then held his fingers to Odius' lips, his eyes warning him to say nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

"Alexander! Stop!"

Ptolemy did not think that his shouted command would have any effect, so he was as surprised as Seleucus and Perdiccas when Alexander reined Bucephalus to a halt.

He sat astride the stallion, his head bowed, not turning to his friends. The stallion fidgeted, the only sign of Alexander's emotional state. Bucephalus sensed the anguish.

They approached Alexander slowly, halting beside him.

"Alexander?" Seleucus said, quietly.

Alexander held his hand up to stop any more words. He took a few deep breaths. "I cannot…." he began, but faltered. He looked over at his friends, tears ran down his face. "Why now?" he asked. "Why would the Gods take him from me now?"

"It was an accident, Alexander," Seleucus whispered. He swallowed back tears for the death of his friend, then looked to Perdiccas and saw he cried openly.

Alexander dismounted, his friends followed his example. They let their horses graze as they walked over to him. Ptolemy embraced him, realising he only felt a fraction of the pain that Alexander was going through. He feared for Alexander without Hephaistion. "You have to think of your men, Alexander," he counselled. "You have not come this far for nothing. You must be strong, think of the coming battle."

Alexander pulled free of the embrace. "Let me grieve for Hephaistion," he cried.

"We all will grieve for Hephaistion," murmured Perdiccas.

Seleucus hesitated a moment before enfolding Alexander in his arms. "Ptolemy only meant that you have your army arriving. You must be stronger than you have ever been, Alexander. The men need you to be strong." Seleucus felt Alexander respond to the embrace, for a moment he felt what Hephaistion had always known. "We will honour him, Alexander. He was your Patroclus, all of us know that. Did you not show us that at Troy?"

Alexander reached out his hand to Ptolemy, who took it, then joined in the embrace. Perdiccas stepped closer, wishing to take comfort too.

OOXXOO

A chariot had been brought to convey Hephaistion to Besipah. His hands were tied in front of him, his boots painfully removed, his ankles bound.

The charioteer pushed the horses on, while a guard stood over Hephaistion, his eyes not leaving him.

Hephaistion had drawn up his feet, so that he could see the damage inflicted as dawn approached and it became light enough to see. They were bruised and swollen. He tried to flex his toes, but his success in doing so was costly, as pain flared through his feet and up his legs. Hephaistion gasped and tried to move to gain some relief from the cramping pain he felt. The guard laughed at him, before kicking him in the ribs in a warning to keep still.

Hephaistion looked up to the sky. Still shocked by Odius' betrayal, he reflected on what had happened. They had Zahur, and Odius had never loved before. He imagined himself in Odius' place, with Alexander in the place of Zahur, he would sacrifice anyone or anything to keep Alexander safe but Odius should have come to him, perhaps Zahur could have been freed another way.

A wall appeared in Hephaistion's line of vision, they were at Besipah. Hephaistion struggled to sit up, this time the guard did not object to him moving. He saw Nozar and his men, following the chariot, they pushed their horses on to overtake it, giving victory cries as they did so.

By the time the chariot came through the city gates, people were gathering to watch the arrival. They ran after the chariot, cheering and laughing, women swept up their children and followed as quickly as they could, young boys threw imaginary javelins at Hephaistion, merchants gazed at him as they passed by with their camel trains, men patted each other on the back and embraced, as if they had been involved in the mission.

The chariot came to a halt. Two of Nozar's men approached, one grabbed Hephaistion by the hair and pulled him forward. They each took him by the arm and lifted him up, half carrying him, half dragging him up some stone steps where Nozar spoke to the satrap, Faramin. The man had to be Faramin, he wore the most expensive silks and his fat fingers were covered in gold rings. He was middle-aged, his stout belly wrapped in swathes of silk as if to hold it in.

As Hephaistion was dropped to the floor, the satrap looked him over. Hephaistion glared back, noticing the pock-marked face, the scar above the eye and the perfectly curled beard.

"So, you are, Hephaistion," Faramin said, in faltering Greek. "Alexander's whore lies at my feet."

Hephaistion went to answer, but Faramin put his foot across Hephaistion's neck, causing the crowd to cheer. "You will speak when spoken to," he said.

Hephaistion rolled away from Faramin, freeing himself. "I am a Macedonian soldier, I will speak when I please," he answered.

Nozar stepped forward and kicked Hephaistion in the ribs. The crowd cheered again. Nozar's men approached and lifted Hephaistion to his feet, holding him so that the satrap could look on him face to face.

"You have been speaking a little too much, already," Faramin said, menacingly. He smiled. "You can talk….whore of Macedon. You can tell me what I want to know….and then I will kill you."

"I'm already dead," Hephaistion stated. "Dead men don't talk."

OOXXOO

By late afternoon, Alexander's army arrived, and the small encampment became a city swathed with tents. A city in mourning.

Ptolemy emerged from Alexander's tent. He needed air, a chance for a private reflection on the loss of a friend. Parmenion and Philotas were with Alexander, Seleucus and Perdiccas had not left his side, and Cleitus, apart from seeing to the arrival, would call in whenever he had a moment free.

Ptolemy headed to the river, walking along it until he was free from the crowd. A large rock was just a little way up from the river, he walked over to it and sat down, looking at the water drifting by. Alexander's reaction worried him. He was calm for the moment, but everyone knew that it was just the eye of the storm to come. Alexander sat staring at nothing, clutching a letter he had received from Hephaistion, just the day before.

His own memories of Hephaistion came to the surface of his mind. Back to their times at Pella, Hephaistion had…

Ptolemy was interrupted from his thoughts. Someone was walking along the riverbank. It was Odius' boy, the Egyptian. Ptolemy could not remember his name for a moment, then it came to him. Zahur.

He had liked Egypt, he was sad to leave it. They had been there for a long time. He was tempted to stay when Alexander made plans to leave, but he wanted the glory that would come from fighting alongside a king…a king like Alexander. He had taken the Egyptian people to his heart, perhaps this boy appearing so suddenly was a sign that one day he would return there.

The boy was not the only thing to appear. On the other side of the river a lone wolf came ambling into view. It was lean, but it's coat shone in the afternoon sunlight.

"Zahur!" Ptolemy called out, causing the boy to look up suddenly…startled. Ptolemy pointed at the wolf. "Ophois'" he said, knowing that all Egyptians worshipped the wolf, Ophois, God of War.

A look of puzzlement crossed the boy's face, so Ptolemy repeated the words again, perhaps he had the inflection wrong. He knew the boy hardly spoke, but he knew that he could hear and he had no reason to think the lad was an idiot.

Zahur looked around him, not noticing the wolf who had run into the distance the moment Ptolemy had spoken. "Ophois," he replied, raising his hand. He looked around again and then walked on.

"The boy is an idiot," Ptolemy murmured to himself, smiling at the fact, then feeling guilty for smiling when Hephaistion was dead and Alexander mourning. "All the children in Egypt are taught of Ophois," he said aloud. "All the children." He stood up to watch Zahur turn away from the river and head in to some trees. "But what if the child is not Egyptian," he said, dropping low and following Zahur.

It was a vague suspicion. Ptolemy doubted his own mind in suspecting the boy, he thought his mind was using it as a distraction from the day's events. But he could not stop himself from following.

OOXXOO

Odius clutched the locket in his hand. He knew now that he could not live with himself. With his betrayal. Zahur was safe, but Alexander believed Hephaistion was dead. He could not live with that, and even if it meant his own death Alexander needed to know. There was a chance that Hephaistion was still alive, that he could be rescued.

He stepped forward, his mind made up. All day Zahur had stayed close to him, not leaving him until it the sun began to set, he knew the boy wanted him safe, not to say anything. He prayed he would have the chance to say goodbye.

Knowing he was walking to his execution, he headed to Alexander's tent, only to be stopped by the guard.

"I must see Alexander," Odius cried.

Seleucus emerged from the tent. "What is it?" he asked the guard, then saw Odius.

Odius clutched the locket tighter. "I must see Alexander," he repeated.

Seleucus put his hand on Odius' shoulder. "Now is not the time, Odius. Perhaps later." He turned to go.

"You don't understand," Odius blurted out. Seleucus turned back. Odius opened his hand to reveal the locket. "I need to see Alexander," he said. Seleucus stepped aside, signalling for Odius to go in.

It was dark inside the tent, no lamps were lit. Alexander sat surrounded by his generals and companions, he did not react as Odius came in.

Odius went to him and fell to his knees before him, handing him the locket. Alexander understood the meaning of it immediately. Like a man waking from a hundred year sleep, he slowly came back to life, light shone in his eyes again and he gazed on Odius. "Tell me."

Odius swallowed, he took a deep breath.

"Zahur. My boy. It was his idea. We went to some woods to spend some time alone together. I love the boy, but I should have been more on my guard. While I was distracted we were captured by Persians. They took Zahur from me and told me they would kill him if I did not bring Hephaistion to them that night." Odius hesitated, seeing Alexander react. When Alexander said nothing, he continued.

"The body that was found, they provided it, they told me they would. That when I lit the fire Zahur would be released. I took the locket that they had taken from Hephaistion." Tears filled Odius' eyes as he looked upon Alexander. "He could not fight. I had betrayed him, and yet he still cared for my protection…for my life." Odius' face twisted in remorse for his actions. "He is still alive, Alexander. I don't care what you do to me, but I care that he is rescued, that he is returned to you."

Alexander looked down at the locket, then to Odius. "Where were they taking him?"

As Odius was about to answer, Ptolemy came in to the tent pushing Zahur forward. The boy had been beaten. "Hephaistion is alive," Ptolemy said.

"We just found out," said Seleucus, grinning and reaching to touch Ptolemy's arm. "How did you find out?"

Ptolemy looked at Odius. The mood had changed in the tent, from one of despair to one of hope. "I had my suspicions about the boy. Then I discovered for an Egyptian lad who hardly speaks, his Persian is excellent. There is an injured man I captured, Astyoche has him."

Odius groaned as the reality of what he had done hit him. Alexander stood and walked over to Zahur, the boy spat at him.

"Where have they taken Hephaistion," Alexander asked.

The boy said nothing.

"To be a spy amongst us, you must know our language. Must I have you tortured for what you know?"

The boy glanced up at Alexander, then looked to the generals who were all on their feet, some with hands on their swords, murder in their eyes. "Shabdiz. My name is Shabdiz," he said.

"Where is Hephaistion?" Alexander asked again.

Shabdiz was reluctant to answer, but Ptolemy twisted his arm high against his back, causing him to gasp in pain and loosen his tongue. "Besipah. They have taken him to Besipah. They know he lies with you, they want to know what secrets you share, what he would say to Mazeus. My master, the satrap Faramin, he will torture him, make him speak, then he says he will send his head as a gift for Darius."

Alexander's temper snapped. He grabbed the boy and pushed him back against a tent post, Shabdiz yelped in fear as he did so. "Tell me about Besipah. Tell me everything you know," he snapped.

Glancing at Seleucus he gave an order. "Fetch Tabal, I'm going to need him." He turned to Perdiccas. "I want twenty of our best men, ready to leave within the hour." To Ptolemy. "The bridges must be completed." Then he turned back to Shabdiz. "Now, speak."

OOXXOO

At first, Hephaistion did not know if he was upright or lying down. He opened his eyes to see the world spinning before him. It made him nauseous, so he closed his eyes, aware now that he was lying down.

Tentatively, he explored the ground, with his hand. A stone floor. Then he remembered where he was and what had been done to him, and he knew that he was in trouble, that he would die.

Faramin had led the way, had him brought deep within a building in the city, where cries of torment could be heard. He had been brought to a room with the implements of torture all around it and told that he should tell them all he knew of Alexander's army and what he had discussed with Mazeus.

Hephaistion opened his eyes. The world was steadying. So far, only fists and sticks had been used on him. He had refused to answer any questions; each refusal was met with a nod to Arsham, a muscular, giant of a man, who seemed to take immense pleasure in his work.

He was good. Nothing was broken, but Hephaistion was left badly bruised, on every part of his body except his face. Arsham was given orders to avoid his face. Hephaistion had been told that his beheading would be an end to the pain,

Hephaistion tried to move, his body protested, but slowly he was able to bring himself up on to his knees. The world began to spin again, and so he closed his eyes and hung his head down on to his chest, to wait for it to stop. He could hear water being poured. He licked his lips, not realising his thirst until now.

Faramin wanted the answers. He wanted to win favour with Darius for what information he obtained. Hephaistion smiled, despite it all. He had said nothing, and in his frustration Faramin had allowed Arsham to beat him until he passed out from the pain.

Hephaistion took a slow, painful breath, and then lifted his head and looked around. A slave was pouring water in to a large tank, which had a table pushed up against it. A water board. Hephaistion had heard of them; he knew what they intended, and if his feet would have carried him, he would have tried to escape no matter how futile his chances were.

He realised then that his hands had been untied. He lifted them towards him, then explored the bruising on his ribs, gasping a little as he touched his side. He smiled. At least now his feet did not hurt so much, not with every other part of him joining in the chorus.

"What are you smiling at?"

The question was asked by Faramin.

Hephaistion looked up at the satrap. He had not realised that he was still in the room. Arsham stood behind him, his arms folded across his chest, a grim look on his face.

"It was a private joke," Hephaistion replied.

Faramin nodded to Arsham who stepped forward and kicked Hephaistion in the chest, knocking him backwards. Hephaistion hissed in pain as his weight went down on to his feet, he rolled to his side and struggled to get up.

"What did you say to Mazeus?" Faramin asked, crouching down to ask the question.

"I liked his horse," answered Hephaistion.

Faramin sighed and turned to Arsham, shaking his head. Footsteps were heard entering the room. Hephaistion pushed himself up to see Nozar, Enayat and three other men, who all looked over at him with interest.

Faramin called Nozar to him, then Nozar spoke to his men and they came over to Hephaistion and lifted him up, carrying him to the table.

Hephaistion struggled in sudden panic, this would be bad, he would be out of control. He twisted his body as he was laid on his back, on the table, trying to fight as a leather belt, attached to the table, was strapped across his chest to hold him down. His head, neck and shoulders, were left unsupported over the water, Hephaistion felt the water around the back of his head as he struggled to hold himself above it. A strap was fastened over his thighs, his breathing quickened. He fought to calm himself, he could hold his breath, Alexander used to liken him to a dolphin, when they swam in the river at Pella.

He caught the memory of being with Alexander. A summers day, wrapped in each other's arms. They had laughed together, held each other, made love together. He felt the peace from lying close to Alexander, he would never betray him.

"Tell me now. What did Mazeus say to you?" Faramin asked.

"Ask, Mazeus," Hephaistion replied, barely registering the anger in Faramin's face as Arsham placed his hand on Hephaistion's jaw and pushed him back in to the water.

Hephaistion struggled as his face was submerged. He tried to turn away from Arsham's grasp, but he was held too firmly. Trying to breathe before his mouth went under, he took in some water and struggled to swallow it at the angle his head was held at. Echoes of sound, his struggle and muffled voices filled his world. He arched his back, then felt the leather bindings. He was unable to move, to answer his lungs demand for air.

A voice inside his head told him to be calm, but panic gripped him, this could be his execution. He fought harder, fought for life, but Faramin controlled whether he lived or died. Hephaistion felt Arsham's hand move, his hair was gripped tightly and he was helped up from the water.

Hephaistion gasped for air, taking the opportunity to fill his lungs, not sure when he would be submerged again. As he lay with Arsham supporting his head, his mouth open, breathing hard, he looked around and found no sympathy on any of the faces looking down at him.

"I do not believe that would be a particularly pleasant experience," Faramin said.

Hephaistion could not answer, his body still demanded air.

Nozar spoke to Faramin, who nodded and looked back at Hephaistion. "You wish to return to Alexander?"

Hephaistion clenched his fists. It was his dearest wish, but he realised they were toying with him, as a cat might play with a mouse. "Then, how would you send my head to Darius?" he asked.

Faramin shrugged and smiled. "Darius would not be so disappointed. Not if he knew of Alexander's plans for the forthcoming battle. Not if he knew what Mazeus talked to you about."

Hephaistion hesitated, stalling for time while his lungs filled with air; while he calmed himself. "I'll tell you," he said.

Faramin leaned closer.

"I know Alexander's plans….he plans to beat Darius, he plans to rule his empire….and what Alexander plans becomes reality." Hephaistion took a deep breath. "Mazeus said that I could buy his horse."

Faramin shouted; Hephaistion's head was submerged, once more.

Hephaistion's first reaction was to fight, but that was what they wanted. He struggled once against Arsham, just to see if he could escape, but he was held firmly. He had to stay calm. He went back to a time with Alexander, the first time. Not the act of love itself, but the time just before, when he saw the love in Alexander's eyes, heard his murmured endearments and knew that all he'd ever dreamed of could be his; for all he'd ever dreamed of was winning Alexander's heart.

A blow hit him in the stomach, causing him to gasp for air. Water flowed in to his lungs as his mouth opened. He was choking, but unable to gain relief. He struggled, once more, until Arsham lifted his head. He twisted his head to the side, the water lapping at the side of his face as he coughed up what he could and sucked in air for his burning lungs.

"You suffer," Faramin observed. "There is no need."

"Alexander," Hephaistion whispered, for a moment seeing his lover's face before him.

"He cannot help you. Help yourself, Hephaistion. Tell me what I need to know."

Hephaistion looked up at Faramin. "You have the face of a pig."

As he was submerged in the water again, Hephaistion did not care if he lived or died. If he died, then his shade would be free to return to Alexander, to be with him once more. It was what he craved more than air; more than life. His body fought against the straps, against Arsham, against Faramin, against everything that had brought him to this moment, but he did not fear death anymore. He felt life slipping from him, his body giving up the fight.

OOXXOO

Shabdiz, known to the army as Zahur, was executed along with the other Persian spy. He had talked readily, to avoid torture and to claim a quick death. Alexander knew all he needed to know of Besipah.

He left with twenty men, Ptolemy rode with him. Among the group was Tabal, a Persian who was loyal to Alexander, he did not know Besipah, but Alexander had his uses for him.

The army had their orders, they would mobilise when the bridge was completed. Boats had were already being moored in position, it would not take long until they could move, and then Parmenion had his orders.

Alexander led the way, their horses swam across the river, clambered up the rocky bank. He would find Hephaistion; he prayed he would be in time.


	3. Chapter 3

Hephaistion had hoped to wake up in Elysian Fields, so as he felt the stone floor beneath him, he gave a soft moan of disappointment, a moan that was lost amongst the cries emanating from the place that he was in.

He was lying down, but his back was against a wall. He felt nauseous, his chest ached, the rest of his body was in pain. He struggled up, realising as he did so, that a metal cuff was attached to his right ankle, a chain from that attached to a wall. That was all they had used to secure him, his hands were free.

A wall sconce burnt on a far wall, casting shadows across the room. Still the same room, the water board before him, the implements of torture all around.

Hephaistion was alone in the room. He coughed, causing his ribs to complain at the movement. He moved, to try to make himself more comfortable, and failed in the attempt. He closed his eyes and tried to rest. They had not done with him yet, he would need all the strength he could find.

Footsteps. Someone was coming down the stone steps that led to the room. Hephaistion's eyes flashed open, fearing that they had returned already. A light grew brighter, he heard mumbled words and then a man came in to the room, holding a lantern. He put the lantern down on the table of the water board and walked over to Hephaistion. It was the interpreter, Enayat.

He smiled at Hephaistion, and crouched down beside him, he was holding a cup of wine and offered some to him.

"Here. Drink," he said, holding the cup out.

Hephaistion took it, looking cautiously at Enayat. He put the cup to his lips and swallowed some. It tasted good. Not tainted. He greedily drank the cupful down, then handed the cup back to Enayat and coughed.

Enayat put his hand on Hephaistion's shoulder. "You were thirsty, my friend."

Hephaistion nodded.

"You would have let yourself die," Enayat stated.

Hephaistion nodded.

Enayat sighed, removing his hand from Hephaistion's shoulder, he sat down on the floor, his fingers idly stroking the rim of the cup. He studied it for a moment, then looked at Hephaistion.

"This Alexander, he can not win. Darius has such an army that he will crush your king. You must see the sense of it. Why suffer in the name of a man who will be defeated?"

Hephaistion smiled. "You do not know Alexander."

"He will be outnumbered. How many men does he have in his army?"

"Enough" Hephaistion noticed a movement in the shadow of the stairs. Enayat was not alone, someone was listening.

Enayat smiled at Hephaistion's reply. "You are a brave man. I think that you would be a brave soldier….and yet you warm Alexander's bed….you are his whore."

Hephaistion chose not to respond, he flinched away as Enayat reached out a hand to touch his chest.

"Very handsome," Enayat whispered. "Do you know why Faramin has ordered your face not be harmed?" He did not wait for an answer. "He wants Darius to see your beauty unmarred; if Darius chooses to send your head to Alexander, he will want him to know you."

Hephaistion's fear surfaced. Fear for Alexander. He had not thought that Alexander might be subjected to such a thing. He tried to stand, pulling himself upright, but his feet protested, they would not hold him and he collapsed back to the floor.

"You fear this," Enayat observed, and smiled.

Hephaistion leaned forward, whispering to the man before him. "If you could get word to Alexander. He would reward you."

"Alexander will lose," Enayat assured him. "Perhaps, you fear the blade? No? The executioner will be quick. You should save yourself the pain you suffer, will suffer, and tell Faramin what he wants to know."

Hephaistion shook his head. He did not fear death, he feared for Alexander when he discovered he could have done something, but was now too late.

"Did Mazeus not tell you that Alexander was to be defeated?"

"He did." Hephaistion looked into Enayat's eyes so that he could see he told the truth. He could also have added that he had convinced Mazeus that Alexander would defeat Darius. That Darius was a weak king; and Alexander would rule Persia well and with compassion.

Enayat nodded at this answer, his eyes glancing over to the stairs, as if he hoped the person there had heard.

"Who is there?" asked Hephaistion.

"What do you mean?" countered Enayat.

"Who is on the stairs?"

Enayat laughed, and looked over to the stairs, then back to Hephaistion. "Nobody is there. I am here alone." He took a moment to look about the room. "This is a bad place to be," he said. "Do you not fear it?"

"I am still alive," Hephaistion replied. He shifted his position as his body began to ache. He longed to lie down and rest, but could not do so while Enayat was with him.

As if sensing his discomfort, Enayat lay back, resting on his right elbow, he played with the cup in his hands. He watched his fingers trace the shape of it. "Faramin is not a patient man. He seeks glory. He would be satrap of a finer city…he would rule Babylon. How is he to do this, unless he gives proof of Mazeus' treachery to Darius, or earns favour with the gift of your head?" Enayat sat back up, the floor was not so comfortable. "And yet you persist on being stubborn….like a mule….you suffer, for nothing."

"Not for nothing," said Hephaistion.

"You Greeks are stupid people," sighed Enayat, shaking his head. "We had a spy in your camp, Hephaistion. The man who sacrificed you, he did it believing that the boy, Zahur, loved him." Enayat laughed. "Stupid."

Hephaistion felt his heart contract as Enayat spoke; he felt pity for Odius, then tried to recall what Zahur might have overheard, but could think of nothing. "Then, if your spy was so good, why bother to ask me anything?"

Enayat grinned and pointed at Hephaistion. "You are smart."

"I am Macedonian," Hephaistion replied proudly.

"Your man was too lovesick. He would not answer the boy's questions, but perhaps he can get close to Alexander, he is willing to sacrifice himself for the chance to kill your king."

"No!" Hephaistion's cry shocked Enayat, who fell back. Hephaistion turned and pulled at the point where the chain was attached to the wall. Reason had left him. He grabbed for Enayat, succeeding in clutching his clothing and shoving him against the wall. Enayat cried out. Hephaistion searched his robes for a key, a weapon, anything that might help him escape. His hands moved to Enayat's throat and began to squeeze the life from him. Enayat squealed, his eyes looking frantically for assistance. Hephaistion remembered the person on the stairs, he turned, but too late. He caught a fleeting glimpse of Nozar before the world went black.

OOXXOO

Alexander reined in Bucephalus, lifting his hand, signalling for his men to wait.

Merchants were camped in the distance, their firelight illuminating the ground around them to show their pitched tents, merchandise and camels. Even the sound of their laughter travelled over the land, they did not suspect Macedonian soldiers to be so close, for Alexander's army to be marching towards them.

Alexander reined back and turned to go to Ptolemy, signalling they should move back, keeping out of sight.

Alexander looked up at the moon, it lit their way but slowed their pace as they had to take more care not to be seen. If anyone saw them and raised the alarm in Besipah it would be signing Hephaistion's death warrant. And if they had already killed Hephaistion the citizens of Besipah would have signed their own.

Astyoche, who had begged to be included in the rescue party, came over, pointing in to the night. A few moments later the sound of a horse cantering towards them was heard.

A couple of the men drew their swords, but relaxed when Seleucus came in to view.

He grinned at Alexander, pleased with his ability to guide his way by the stars. Aristotle's lectures had not been in vain after all. "Alexander," he said in greeting.

"Parmenion is across the river?" Alexander asked.

"More than across, Alexander. He should have the army at Besipah by morning."

Alexander frowned. He needed the army, but he needed them now. He did not want to delay any longer than he had to."

"And what do we do, Alexander?" Ptolemy asked. "Why have we gone ahead? What will twenty men do when they get to Besipah?"

"Ride in to the city," Alexander replied and smiled in anticipation of his revenge.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion was shaken awake by Nozar.

One of the men was unfastening the metal cuff he wore on his ankle. Nozar clasped Hephaistion's chiton, and pulled him upright, pinning him to the wall. Hephaistion looked over the man's shoulder, to see a servant filling the tank of the water board.

Nozar laughed and spoke to him but Hephaistion did not understand, he just knew what they planned to do to him.

Faramin entered the room, he walked over, giving Nozar orders. In turn Nozar called his men, who grabbed hold of Hephaistion, pulling him from the wall towards the water board.

Hephaistion struggled, fighting hard, breaking free from one man.

"Keep still!" shouted Faramin.

Hephaistion had no intention of keeping still, not when he had attained a small victory by freeing himself. Nozar grabbed Hephaistion's right arm, pulling it out behind him, just as another of his men grabbed his hair and kicked out. Hephaistion timed it beautifully, catching the man by the heel and throwing him backwards.

"Break his shoulder!"

Faramin gave the order in Greek, as he had ordered Hephaistion to keep still. Realising his mistake he spoke to Nozar in Persian. Hephaistion looked over his right shoulder to see the intent to carry out the order in Nozar's eyes.

"No!" he cried out, turning away as he felt the pressure bearing down on his shoulder. He bent forward, trying to gain relief but the pressure was immense and he felt his shoulder dislocate with a dull popping noise. He screamed in agony, a feral cry, as Nozar dropped his arm and left it hanging uselessly by his side.

Fire raged through Hephaistion's shoulder as the muscles spasmed, it almost sent him back in to the darkness, but he fought it. His mouth opened in a silent scream as he struggled through the agony, while the men laughed around him, enjoying his pain.

Not given enough time to adjust, Hephaistion was lifted up and secured once more to the water board. With his shoulders hanging off the edge of the table, Hephaistion was in torment. He dropped his head back, unwittingly submerging himself in the water, to lift himself up was excruciatingly painful.

Faramin leaned in close, his breath stank of wine and spices. Hephaistion had no idea of the time, but thought that Faramin had returned from a feast to carry on the torture. Arsham, suddenly appeared, his face grim.

Hephaistion lifted his head up from the water, as best he could. His right shoulder was on fire. They had sent him to a world of pain.

"I see the pain in your eyes, Hephaistion," Faramin sneered.

"It's because your breath stinks so badly," Hephaistion gasped in reply, looking immediately over at Arsham, surprised when he did not move. He closed his eyes, tried to breath through the pain, tried to picture Alexander.

Faramin laughed. "Do not be so obstinate, Hephaistion. It is late. Are you not tired? Answer my questions and this pain will stop."

Hephaistion bit his lip, and smiled at Faramin. "What do you want to know?"

"Good," soothed Faramin. He spoke to the men, ran his hand along Hephaistion's chest in a comforting motion. "What did you discuss with Mazeus?"

Hephaistion steadied his breathing, trying to block out the pain, then he looked at Faramin. "He wanted to buy Alexander's horse. I told him it was not for sale."

Arsham's hand closed around his neck and jaw and Hephaistion's head was pushed back in to the water.

He couldn't struggle, not if he had wanted to. The pain of each movement of his shoulder brought him closer to passing out. He held his breath, expecting to be gut-punched any moment, but it never came. His lungs were bursting, but he opened his eyes, looking in to the blackness of the water and saw Alexander there. Alexander was calling him home. He went to go to him, when Arsham pulled him from the water.

"No," murmured Hephaistion.

The straps were being undone. He was pulled down the table so that his head was supported. Nozar was talking to Faramin.

"Alexander," Hephaistion whispered, praying for the image of his love to come back to him.

Faramin looked down scornfully on Hephaistion. "I believe you will die before you tell me anything," he said. He shook his head. "You are Alexander's whore, and you shall die a whore. I shall give you to Kamous, he owns the lowest, filthiest brothel in Besipah. There you will service beggars, the lowest of the low, for a day. My guards will come for you at midnight and then you will be executed, Hephaistion." Faramin sneered at him. "You will be reunited with Alexander soon enough. He and his army will be slaughtered by Darius' men at Gaugamela."

Faramin stepped back, leaving the room.

OOXXOO

Besipah was a silhouette, outlined in morning sunlight as dawn broke.

Alexander had waited impatiently. He had noted the terrain, pointing out to Seleucus where the army should wait. He was determined to go ahead, leaving five men with Seleucus, so just fifteen of them would enter the city.

He sat back now, resting against a tree, waiting.

Ptolemy hesitated before going over to Alexander. Hephaistion's capture could not have come at a worse time; everything they had been fighting for was finally coming together in one decisive battle. He worried what Hephaistion's loss might do to decide victory; if Alexander would go on.

"What if we are too late?" he asked Alexander, voicing his thoughts.

Alexander looked up at him. "I don't know," he replied. He scooped up some dirt into his hand, and let the fine granules run through his fingers. "The gods decide, Ptolemy….how long we have, when we should meet, when we should part. We have to make the most of the time we have." Alexander opened his hand and let the wind take what was left. He sighed and rested his head back against the tree. "But I would steal time from the gods if I had to."

OOXXOO

They had left Hephaistion. The cuff was re-fastened to his ankle and they left him propped up against the wall, laughing at his discomfort.

Supporting his right shoulder with his left hand, Hephaistion had managed to lie down, resting his head on the hard floor. He could not sleep, so he listened to the cries of men, looked about the room and thought of Alexander. He knew he would go on without him. He knew one day Alexander would hear what had occurred at Besipah and he smiled to think his death would be avenged.

It seemed like an eternity until he heard footsteps on the stairs. Nozar and his men had returned. Enayat was with them, but he held back, keeping his distance and glaring at Hephaistion.

One of the men had a canvas sheet; he unfolded it on the ground, while another released Hephaistion. Then another reached for Hephaistion and dragged him over, on to the canvas.

Nozar stood astride Hephaistion, speaking to him. Hephaistion wondered why he bothered to talk, he must know he could not be understood. He looked in alarm as Nozar reached in to the folds of his clothing, trying to move away as Nozar urinated on him. The men laughed. Enayat stepped forward.

"He says that you are dirt. You are nothing to fear. And so he pisses on you." Enayat translated, joining in the laughter, then stepping away.

Hephaistion lifted up his left arm and wiped away the splashes of urine which had hit his face. Nozar stepped away from him and his men each lifted a corner of the sheet, hoisting him up to waist level.

Hephaistion held on to his right arm, trying to protect his shoulder from the jarring pain each movement made. They struggled up the narrow steps with him, through a door and then Hephaistion turned his head to glimpse a narrow shaft of sunlight. He smiled up at it. He had feared he would never see the sun again.

He heard Nozar give orders and then fresh air filled Hephaistion's lungs, sounds of people going about their daily business. He saw some faces, leaning over to see who was carried in the sheeting. Nozar's men brushed these people away. Children's laughter rang out, children were running alongside, calling to each other.

A tear fell from Hephaistion's eye. He no longer felt a part of this world. He raised his left hand up to greet the sun, which shone in a perfect blue sky. He prayed to Apollo thinking it would be the last time.

The journey through the city did not take long. The men halted at a house with flaking brickwork, old wooden shutters hanging precariously from each window, torn cloth blowing in what breeze came down the alley. Hephaistion could see enough to know it was a place the poorest beggar would be loathe to live in. The place stank of rotting meat and vegetation.

Enayat's face peered over the sheet, grinned at him. "A fitting home for a whore," he said, before his face disappeared from view.

Hephaistion heard a wooden door knocked loudly. Nozar shouted out, then knocked louder. A man's voice could be heard, a woman's ravaged face appeared at a window and then the shutter closed. Nozar banged on the door again, impatient for it to be answered. Again the man's voice, but this time nearer. The door was being opened, unbolted. The man's voice was clearer now, he protested as Nozar and his men forced their way in.

The face of an old man looked down on Hephaistion. He was grey-haired with a long, grey, straggly beard. He was thin faced, his thin lips compressed as he studied Hephaistion, his dark eyes full of longing, seeing profit. He looked to his right, seeing something he disliked, he hurried away, his voice protesting as Hephaistion was carried upstairs.

Another door was kicked open and Hephaistion was set down on a wooden floor, before being lifted on to a wooden bed, with dirty blankets under him, his head resting on a pillow that stank of sweat, smoke and semen.

He looked around, able now to see his new surroundings, for what they were. The walls had old, painted pictures of various sexual acts being performed, faded with age. Wooden shutters closed at the single window, sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the wood, dust caught in the light spiralled in the air.

Nozar talked to the old man, who nodded and kept looking over at Hephaistion, then back to Nozar. He was nodding his head in agreement, while Enayat stood close listening to what was said.

The old man must have asked about Hephaistion trying to escape as Nozar came over to the bed and lifted up Hephaistion's left foot, to show the bruising. Then he prodded Hephaistion's right shoulder, causing Hephaistion to cry out in pain.

The old man suddenly shook his head, stepping away and waving his hands as if he wanted nothing to do with Hephaistion's humiliation. Nozar grabbed his arm and placed a small metal flask in his hands. The man looked down as if he had been given gold. He chattered happily to Nozar and Enayat , giving a toothless grin to Hephaistion as he clutched the flask to his scrawny chest.

Nozar and his men left the room, leaving Enayat and the old man behind. A young girl's face appeared at the door, she spoke to the old man, but he closed the door on her and walked over to the bed with Enayat.

The old man slowly knelt down by the bed. Keeping up a running commentary to Enayat, he opened the flask, sniffing at it. He put his left hand under Hephaistion's head, encouraging him to bend his head back, and then he held the flask to Hephaistion's lips and poured a little into his mouth.

"Drink," whispered Enayat. "It is good."

It tasted bitter. Hephaistion turned his head and spat out what he could. The old man protested, struggling up from the floor to kneel upon the bed. Enayat moved around the bed to hold Hephaistion's left arm, kneeling on his chest as the old man pinched Hephaistion's nose and held the flask ready to pour the contents the moment his mouth opened.

Hephaistion could not fight for long, he had no strength. Enayat pushed down on to his chest and Hephaistion opened his mouth, struggling for breath. The flask was forced in to his mouth and his jaw forced shut so he would choke or swallow. He swallowed. Then gladly drank in the musty air.

The old man nodded. Gleeful. He hurried from the room, shouting orders of his own.

Enayat sat on the bed. "It is Haoma. Soon, you will think you are with Alexander himself. You will please a beggar, and make him believe he is a king." Enayat looked over his shoulder. "Kamous, the old man, he wants a profit from you first. Camel trains will be arriving soon and he hopes a merchant will come to savour your wares."

OOXXOO

Alexander stood up and walked over to Seleucus, who was talking with Ptolemy. "You know where the army should wait?" he asked.

Seleucus nodded. "And you have Leonnatus to give the signal."

"Watch for it," smiled Alexander.

"We should wait for darkness to fall again," cautioned Ptolemy.

Shaking his head, Alexander replied. "They have Hephaistion. I am not waiting."

Alexander stepped away, going to Bucephalus and soothing the horse, who was restless. Bucephalus' ears pricked up, his head turning. A rider was approaching at speed. Perdiccas.

He reined his horse in and jumped down. "You can go, Alexander," he grinned. "And may the gods be with you."


	4. Chapter 4

They had stripped Hephaistion, then washed his body, combed his hair, shaved his face and rubbed acrid smelling oils in to his skin. Enayat had lifted him, while Kamous had pulled a swathe of dirty blue silk around Hephaistion's hips, tying it over at the front and placing the remaining fabric between Hephaistion's legs.

They positioned him on the bed, Hephaistion unable and unwilling to protest, his mind was spinning, Alexander was before him. "Alexander," he murmured and laughed as the image before him smiled.

Finally, a cloak was draped over Hephaistion's right shoulder, hiding the damage done there, but not the bruising to the rest of his body.

Kamous rubbed his hands, placing oil beside the bed before he left the room.

"You feel no pain?" Enayat laughed. "You could escape now, Hephaistion. There are no guards. Nozar knows you have had the haoma, he knows you will go nowhere. Perhaps you will not even feel the blade at all tonight."

Hephaistion smiled. He was trying to stay in this pain-ridden world, fighting to ignore the golden dreams that tried to pull him under.

Enayat got up from the bed and walked over to the shutters, throwing them open and leaning out to look along the alleyway. "The street is busy," he observed. He turned back to Hephaistion. "You should get your first customer soon. Kamous and I will take money from the merchants first, and then leave you to the beggars before Faramin or Nozar discover what we have done." He looked out of the window and smiled as he saw Kamous step out, begging for business.

A wealthy merchant had found his way in to the alley, his guard, swathed in robes of the nomad, stood close to him, his hand on his scimitar. The merchant shook his head. Enayat tensed. They should not be using Hephaistion for profit, if they were discovered Faramin would have their heads. If he had to take a risk he wanted as much profit as possible. The merchant looked wealthy, but he was walking away.

He gave a little cheer as Kamous ran after him, turning him around, pointing to the window. Enayat stepped back, not wishing to be seen. Smiling. Kamous was good. He heard his voice, keeping up a constant banter, getting nearer.

The merchant spoke. It was about money, the quality of the whores. He was saying that the place looked filthy and he would not wish to step inside of it. Kamous gave in a little, to keep the merchant's interest, but not enough to lose a healthy profit. He was saying he had the whore of a king, Enayat cringed to hear it, but Kamous named no names. The merchant protested, saying that he had been told that before, that Kamous was fooling him. It sounded as if he were leaving. Kamous told him to come see, that the deal could be done once he saw the boy.

Enayat heard them coming up the stairs. He laughed out loud. "Time for you to earn me money," he said, stepping forward and waiting for the door to open. He glanced over at the Macedonian, he was staring at the cracked ceiling, murmuring a song.

The door opened and the merchant stepped in, pulling back the robes around his head and screwing up his nose against the stench and the baseness of the room. His guard stepped in, apparently mesmerised by the sight of the man upon the bed. He stepped over to him, his hand reaching out to touch.

"Who is to have him?" Enayat asked, confused as the merchant stepped back towards the door.

The guard knelt down by the bed, caressing Hephaistion's face, then looking down he pulled back the cloak. Enayat and Kamous looked at each other, the guard had seen the damage, it might affect the price. Perhaps the guard was to take him after all.

"Alexander," Hephaistion murmured.

"No, not Alexander," Enayat said, giving a false laugh. He was concerned about the price.

The guard stood up and pulled back his robes to reveal a handsome face, with golden hair and deep grey eyes. "You would be the mistaken one," Alexander said calmly, freeing the scimitar and striking out at Enayat. He caught him in the throat, silencing the interpreter for good.

At the same moment, Tabal, who had been disguised as the merchant, stepped forward and cut Kamous' throat. He then stepped back and closed the door, putting a bar down to secure it.

Alexander returned to Hephaistion, kneeling by his side, once more. "Hephaistion," he murmured, his hand reaching up to touch his face.

Hephaistion glanced once in Alexander's direction, and then looked up at the ceiling. He laughed. "When the summer is done, I will keep you warm, through the winter nights, I will be with you," Hephaistion sang. It was an old love song Alexander would sing to him back at Mieza.

Alexander put his hand to Hephaistion's forehead, feeling for fever, but there was none, as far as he could make out. "Hephaistion," he whispered, and leaned forward to kiss his lips.

Hephaistion responded for a moment, but then pulled his head away, and put up his left hand to Alexander's chest, attempting to fight him off. "No!" he cried out.

Alexander looked to Tabal, who stepped forward, holding Hephaistion's head still while he looked into his eyes. Then Tabal stepped back and searched about the room, quickly finding the silver flask. "Haoma," he said. "It is made from a plant. If you drink it you lose your mind….for a time, see what is not there. It would make him accept whatever happens."

"That's why there were no guards," Alexander said, turning back to Hephaistion, who was singing the song again. He took his dagger and cut the cloak in to strips of cloth. Then with Tabal's help he carefully tied them in place around Hephaistion, securing his right arm to his side, so that no more damage could be done before a surgeon could examine it.

He checked for further injury, his temper roused by the cuts and bruises. Then he saw the damage done to Hephaistion's feet, how badly bruised they were. "He will not be able to walk," he said to Tabal, vowing to kill whoever was responsible.

Tabal handed Alexander a robe he had taken from Enayat's body. Alexander lifted Hephaistion up in to a sitting position. Hephaistion laughed and put his left hand up to Alexander's face, kissing him and murmuring his name. He spoke of Aristotle, of threats made by Olympias, that he would ignore them, take the risk, to be with him.

Alexander fastened the robe around Hephaistion, pulling his left arm through the sleeve but wrapping it around his right. With a look to Tabal, he lifted Hephaistion upright, then pulled the hood of Enayat's robe up over Hephaistion's head, before pulling the swathes of fabric over his own head and face, to disguise himself once more. Then he lifted Hephaistion up, into his arms, as Tabal opened the door and led the way, down the stairs and outside, in to the street.

They received curious glances, but Tabal kept up the charade of an angry merchant whose servant had drunk too much, and when he was sober he would punish him severely. This caused some laughter, nobody gave them a second thought after that.

They did not have far to go, before another nomad stepped up to lift Hephaistion from Alexander's arms. "You found him then," he said, looking at Alexander and smiling.

"Where, the people we asked, said he would be, Ptolemy. What about you?"

Ptolemy nodded his head to where a camel train and the nomads with it, rested in the morning sun. "Nobody has bothered us. Entering the city as a camel train was a stroke of genius, Alexander. Leonnatus is ready."

Alexander looked down at Hephaistion. "Take care of him," he whispered. He went over to another of his men, pulling off the robes as he did so, to reveal his chiton and breastplate beneath them. The man handed him his sword and Alexander turned to look up on to a rooftop. "Leonnatus!" he cried, and Leonnatus stood, with a burning arrow ready in his bow. He fired the arrow high in to the air and it hit where it was intended, igniting the banner that hung above the main entrance, a beacon to the waiting army.

"Follow me!" Alexander called and twelve of the men, who had also disrobed to their chitons, ran after him towards the main gate.

The guards there were shouting amongst themselves, pointing to the banner, not sure how it ignited. Then they stepped back, seeing the army appear over the horizon, in a seemingly unstoppable formation, outnumbering the soldiers in the city.

Suddenly mobilised, they hurried to close the gate, calling the alarm, causing people to scatter.

"Alexander," called a guard, pointing in the distance, looking around to see Alexander himself. He looked in stunned amazement and wondered what sort of man could appear from nowhere. Too shocked to fight he fell to his knees and dropped the scimitar in his hand. "Alexander," he murmured.

Fearing for their lives, the other guards dropped their weapons, surrendering to Alexander. The gates remained open. A steady thunder was heard on the horizon and Alexander's cavalry stormed through the gate and in to the city.

Seleucus saw Alexander. "You have him?" he asked, he had led Bucephalus and threw the reins to Alexander.

Alexander grinned. "Yes, I do."

Seleucus matched the grin, waiting for Alexander to leap on to Bucephalus' back, before raising his sword and following him into the city.

OOXXOO

Ptolemy had chosen a quiet street, to wait and guard Hephaistion. He wanted to be fighting, but was set to his task of defending Hephaistion, if only by staying out of harm's way.

As Tabal and Astyoche stood guard, Ptolemy crouched down to examine Hephaistion, who was sitting upright, leaning against a wall. The proof of torture was all too evident. Ptolemy winced as he saw the broken shoulder, running his fingers along Hephaistion's jaw, seeing the bruises. His body was covered in cuts and bruises.

As he checked Hephaistion's ribs, Hephaistion laughed, lifting his hand up to cup the back of Ptolemy's head. "Alexander," he breathed, leaning forward and kissing Ptolemy in an open invitation.

Ptolemy pulled back quickly, almost overbalancing and falling over. He quickly glanced at Astyoche and Tabal, only to see them hiding their laughter. Standing upright, he brushed at his chiton, flushing because the kiss had made his body respond to it. He looked down at Hephaistion, seeing him with new eyes.

"Haoma," said Tabal, he shook his head and laughed at Ptolemy.

Astyoche grinned, but a warning looked from Ptolemy made him lose it.

It would not be long before Alexander would return, they just had to wait.

However, sooner than expected, they heard people running. Soldiers. The clink of armour and shouted orders, in Persian, told them that they would soon be discovered.

Ptolemy walked in to the middle of the street, his sword in his hand, ready to fight. Astyoche and Tabal stepped out behind him, standing to the left and right. They saw men turn the corner and slow up. In the centre was, no doubt, the satrap, Faramin, his face alarmed, he was red and breathless from running.

"Nozar!" the man called and a man stepped up to him, as if to protect him. At the same time Faramin spotted Hephaistion and pointed to him. He looked up at Ptolemy and smiled, licking his lips, knowing he had more men. "Alexander?" he questioned, mistaking Ptolemy for the Macedonian King.

Ptolemy looked to Astyoche. "First Hephaistion, now this," he sighed. He turned back to the satrap. "Ptolemy," he replied.

"I am Faramin, Satrap of Besipah. Hand over the whore to me."

Ptolemy looked around, as if he did not know what Faramin was looking for. "There is no whore here," he said, his voice threatening.

"Him," said Faramin, stepping forward, pointing to Hephaistion.

"He is Hephaistion, son of Amyntor. A soldier of Alexander's army," Ptolemy replied slowly.

Ptolemy tightened the grip on his sword. The satrap had nine men with him. Astyoche was a good soldier, but Tabal was weak with a sword. Faramin wanted Hephaistion as a hostage, he would need him to barter for his life.

Faramin drew his scimitar, though he held it in a way that showed he did not know how to use it. "You are outnumbered," he said, needlessly. "Must we take him by force? Or, would you rather live?"

"You are the man who had him tortured." Ptolemy stated.

Faramin smiled. "Yes. I had that honour. Now, give him to me."

"Over my dead body," replied Ptolemy.

"As you wish," Faramin said, rushing forward and sweeping his scimitar down towards Ptolemy.

Ptolemy, blocked the blow, pushing Faramin back. He was aware that Astyoche had reached for Tabal, pulling him back to guard Hephaistion; then had stepped forward to fight Faramin's men who crowded towards him. The narrow street helped, held some of the men back.

Faramin tried a different line of attack, striking his scimitar sideways. Ptolemy twisted away. He smiled, the satrap would be an easy kill. He was not prepared for Nozar, lunging forward, his own scimitar raised as Ptolemy held off Faramin. It was too late to act, but Nozar's face suddenly twisted in pain and he fell forward an arrow in his back. Leonnatus, from his vantage point, had come to Ptolemy's assistance

Nodding in gratitude, Ptolemy lunged forward and pushed his sword into Faramin's belly, before withdrawing it and going to assist Astyoche.

He heard horses behind them, he could not afford to glance back, but the Persian soldiers stopped their attack and ran off. Seleucus, gave a shouted greeting to Ptolemy as he and some of the cavalry went in pursuit, while Alexander reined to a halt.

Faramin, lay gasping for breath, his hands clutching at his stomach. "Help me," he cried, his voice mournful and weak, pleading in Greek for compassion and care. His vision blurred and then cleared to see a man crouching down by him. He had blonde hair, grey eyes, and his face was handsome, but stern. "Alexander?" he asked.

The man nodded, then inspected the wound.

"Help me, Alexander, have mercy upon me," Faramin pleaded.

Another man came in to sight. The other Macedonian, Ptolemy. Faramin saw his blood on his hand, on his sword.

"He tortured Hephaistion," Ptolemy informed Alexander.

"I know," replied Alexander, his eyes looking in to those of Faramin's.

Faramin saw greatness shine there, and he suddenly knew that Darius would be defeated. "Help me," he begged.

Alexander stood up, turning to Ptolemy. "Leave him to die," he said. "Nobody is to help him."

Faramin cried out, his hand reaching for Alexander even as he walked away. He turned his head, blinking to clear his vision. Alexander was going towards his whore. He crouched down by him, but his touch was loving, his words comforting. The whore looked in to his eyes, the haoma held him in its grasp, but he was fighting it.

"We have Mazeus, he will leave the battle," the whore said, smiling at Alexander, reaching to embrace him. He laughed then and began to sing.

He had not broken, despite all they had done. Faramin stared at the two, blinking as they merged in to one. This man was no whore. This man was a soldier, loved by Alexander. Faramin rolled on to his back, staring up at the sun. Perhaps he would do better in the next life. He took a deep breath, not realising it was his last.

OOXXOO

Hephaistion awoke to gentle conversation, comfort and cool surroundings.

With tired eyes, he looked around to discover he was in a large room, decadently furnished. He smiled to see Alexander sitting on the large bed he lay in, propped up by soft cushions. Turning his head, he saw Ptolemy lounging on a couch, Seleucus sitting on a mountain of cusions and Perdiccas and Leonnatus leaning on the wall by open, arched windows.

Through the windows he could see a blue sky, with the sun high up in it. Doves flew by, their wings fluttering. Hephaistion turned back to Alexander, who smiled across at him.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

Hephaistion gazed down to see his shoulder, arm and torso were swathed in bandages, his right hand trapped against his chest. A light cotton sheet lay over the rest of his body.

"The surgeon fixed your shoulder while you were still under the influence of the haoma," Alexander explained. "You cursed us and struggled, as the bone was put back, but the surgeon says that the drug relaxed your muscles and so the shoulder went back well. It should heal without any lasting damage.

"I didn't know you could curse so well, Hephaistion," remarked Seleucus, struggling up from the cushions and coming over to seat himself on the bed, on the opposite side from Alexander.

"And Faramin?" Hephaistion asked.

Seleucus looked over to Ptolemy, who raised his hand and bowed his head, grinning. "Ptolemy killed him."

"All who harmed you are dead," Alexander added. "Even the giant."

Hephaistion nodded, then frowned, his head ached, but he understood Alexander meant Arsham.

"Perdiccas took the palace," Seleucus added, his face flushed from too much wine. "He said he almost wet himself when he saw the man running to him."

"I said nothing of the sort," scoffed Perdiccas.

"Perdiccas never likes to feel himself outmatched," continued Seleucus.

"He would have made two of me," argued Perdiccas.

"Three," said Hephaistion, and smiled.

The room went silent for a moment. Hephaistion had been tortured by the man.

"Well, I killed him," Perdiccas said.

Alexander nodded at his friends and they made their apologies and left the room.

Picking up a cup, Alexander held it to Hephaistion's lips. It contained cool water and Hephaistion drank it, greedily.

"Not too much," warned Alexander, placing the cup down.

"We have Mazeus," Hephaistion said.

Alexander nodded. "It was the one coherent think you were able to say yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

Alexander smiled. "You have been sleeping the haoma off."

Hephaistion sighed, and turned to look out of the window.

"It was bad?"

Hephaistion bit his lip and nodded, not daring to turn and look in to Alexander's eyes. He could not speak of it.

Alexander gently pulled Hephaistion to him, holding him in a tender embrace, Hephaistion's head resting in the crook of his neck. He felt Hephaistion shiver, his left arm reaching around him, clinging to his clothing as if he would never let go. He felt the tears then, touching his skin. He cupped the back of Hephaistion's head, holding him closer.

"Do you want to tell me?" he whispered.

Hephaistion turned his head to the side. "In time, perhaps," he replied.

Alexander pulled back, withdrawing from the embrace. He would not allow Hephaistion to hold his emotions in. His thumb traced the outline of Hephaistion's jaw. "You are bruised here. What did they do to cause it?"

"The water board," Hephaistion replied, meeting Alexander's gaze now, for a moment. He would have looked away, but Alexander held him still.

"And you would have told them nothing," Alexander said, sure of his friend. "So how long did they persist?"

"Not long." Tears brimmed over the edge of Hephaistion's eyes, once more. "I wanted to die, Alexander," he whispered. "I thought I would never see you again in this life, and so I wanted to die and wait for you in the Elysian Fields."

"Oh, Hephaistion!" Alexander cried, renewing the embrace, his right hand rubbing Hephaistion's back in a soothing motion.

"It hurt, Alexander. It hurt so much. I was afraid, but when Enayat told me that Zahur meant to kill you…..that was when my fear was at its greatest."

Alexander sat up, carefully resting Hephaistion back against the cushions. He wiped the tears from Hephaistion's face, proud that Hephaistion would only cry in front of him and no other. "Zahur would have turned assassin?" he asked, then smiled. "I was the assassin, Hephaistion, Zahur has been executed."

"And Odius?"

Alexander frowned, then reached for a cloth that sat in a bowl of water. He squeezed the water from the cloth, then cleaned Hephaistion's face. "I have some broth prepared. Would you like some?" he asked.

"One more thing," Hephaistion said. "Darius plans to meet you at a place called Gaugamela. Faramin told me."

Alexander laughed. "Hephaistion, you must be the only man in history, who has ever been tortured and come out with more information than his captors."

Hephaistion smiled. "I hope it is far. I want to fight…..after I've had my broth."

"We will travel slowly. Take our time," replied Alexander. "After all, it is our destiny to fight that battle….together."

OOXXOO

After Hephaistion had eaten, he rested once more. He thought that Alexander had left him, but when he opened his eyes he was still there, seated before him.

"I thought that you had gone," he said.

"I did," Alexander replied. "I only returned a moment ago."

"I dreamt of you," Hephaistion breathed.

Alexander flushed, looked down at the rich blanket, then back to gaze in to Hephaistion's eyes. He leaned forward, kissing Hephaistion's lips briefly. "We better keep to dreams for the time being," he whispered. "At the moment it would be like making love to an Egyptian mummy," he laughed.

"You like Egypt," replied Hephaistion, reaching up to caress the back of Alexander's neck.

Alexander grinned. "That would be Ptolemy you are mistaking me for. You mistook him for me the other day."

Hephaistion let his left hand fall away, looking confused, searching Alexander's eyes for the answer.

"The haoma," Alexander said.

"What did I do?"

"You kissed Ptolemy."

Hephaistion had a look of horror cross his face, then disbelief, before a distant memory came to him.

Alexander laughed, then his face grew serious. "Hephaistion. We have something to discuss."

Alexander stood up and then called out, Hephaistion followed his gaze to see Odius brought in to the room. Odius came to a halt, head downcast, hands tied, guarded by Astyoche and Agis.

"Odius," Hephaistion said softly, causing the man to look up at him with tormented eyes.

Hephaistion looked at Alexander. "I thought you had him executed. When you didn't answer my question…I thought you'd had him killed."

Alexander shook his head. "He came close to it, believe me. I would have executed him myself. I had my hand on my sword, but Odius blurted out that you had said I would forgive him. How could I deny you? It is your choice, Hephaistion. He should thank the gods you live, otherwise I would have had him crucified already." He turned to the men. "Come here," he ordered.

Odius hesitated, then moved close to the bed, flanked by the men from the same battalion. Agis made some comment, surprised at the damage done, in awe of Hephaistion for coming through. Astyoche looked at Odius, then gave him a hefty thump to encourage him to look on what his betrayal had done.

Tears fell from Odius' eyes. He glanced, with fear, at Alexander, then looked on Hephaistion and hated himself. He lifted his hands to his face to wipe away his tears, went to speak, then shook his head. His heart would break if he tried, and yet he wanted to say something, but no words would come.

"Untie his hands," Hephaistion said.

Astyoche untied the hands, while Hephaistion turned to Alexander and asked him for a cup of wine…for Odius. Alexander did as he asked, and passed the cup to him.

"You made a choice," Hephaistion continued, while Odius drank the wine, his hands shaking as the clutched the cup tightly. "A choice that was possibly not the best one, as far as I was concerned," he said, looking down at the bandages around his body. He looked at Alexander. "But if someone had given me the choice between Philip's safety and Alexander's, I would have chosen Alexander every time, even though I had sworn to serve and protect the king." He looked back to Odius. "Because I love him, as you loved Zahur."

"Shabdiz," Astyoche corrected, and then went quiet.

Hephaistion smiled at Astyoche. "Was that his name? Shabdiz?"

Odius nodded. "I am so sorry, Hephaistion. I was a fool…"

"It is love…was love," Hephaistion interrupted. "So there will be no execution." He looked to Alexander.

Alexander smiled at Hephaistion, then leaned forward and kissed his lips. "No execution," he concurred.

Odius gave a cry and fell to the floor, Agis and Astyoche bent down to help him up. Astyoche embraced his friend, relief at the reprieve written on his face. Agis turned to Hephaistion. "I am sorry…so sorry. I said some things. I did not mean them. You are a great man." He fell to his knees, dragging Odius down with him. Embarrassed laughter came from the three, and then they all they swore allegiance to Hephaistion.

"And they say I inspire loyalty," laughed Alexander.

EPILOGUE

An eagle flew high, between the armies of Darius and Alexander. Gaugamela. It would be decided here.

Alexander looked from the eagle to Hephaistion, who sat on his horse, beside him. Hephaistion looked ahead, calm even at the site of Darius' army stretching out before them.

It had taken several weeks for Hephaistion to recover. So Alexander had slowed the march, giving his friend time, wanting him able to fight alongside him.

Odius had become Hephaistion's shadow. He had asked if he could help, and made himself invaluable, carrying Hephaistion, bathing him, shaving him, fetching and carrying, taking messages to Alexander and helping him to walk once more. Then when Alexander came to his friend and lover at night, he would disappear like the sun over the horizon.

The entire army began to gauge the battle by Hephaistion's recovery. They would crowd to watch Hephaistion's progress, judging the strength in his arm, noting when he could walk without limping. When he finally beat Ptolemy in a sword fight, they knew the battle would be soon.

Alexander smiled on Hephaistion. Hephaistion held out his hand and Alexander took it.

"To our destiny," he said, before pushing Bucephalus forward and going to address his army.

THE END


End file.
